


Dawn of Fealty

by Doranwen



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: During Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22589587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/pseuds/Doranwen
Summary: In one moment, Imrahil recognized Aragorn, and in another, he recognized him as lord.  There were but few moments in between…
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel & Imrahil (Tolkien)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Dawn of Fealty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lirin/gifts).



It was in the midst of the great tumult of battle that Imrahil first saw it, with the shrieks and cries of the enemy ringing in his ears. The banner with the signs of Elendil, the seven stars and the high crown, all were formerly unseen though not unknown. His heart wondered at it; how could an heir of Elendil yet live to this time? The signs were most welcome on such a fell day, though he doubted the lineage of the man for whom it was borne. "I am not an young man, but neither am I a dotard," he thought to himself. "And have there not been in the past those desirous of the kingship?"

But as the two ranks began to draw closer, he spied the lordly man, still in his prime, with the Star of Elendil on his brow, and his doubts melted away greatly. The noble face bore few of the years that lay between now and the time Imrahil had last glimpsed it, but there could be no mistake.

The sun had fallen ere they rode back to the City. Imrahil drew his horse beside the other man's and greeted him with, "Thorongil." He had the satisfaction of seeing an eyebrow twitch in recognition. "Age, it seems, has little effect on your face, nor your skill," he added.

"It has improved yours," countered Thorongil with a twinkle in his eye.

Imrahil laughed. "Much to my father's relief! I was rather a rapscallion at that age and did not apply myself to my weapons training as I should have."

"Thorongil?" Éomer asked from atop his mount on Thorongil's other side, a note of curiosity in his voice. "My uncle told me once of a Thorongil that served his father."

"Your uncle had a good memory; he was but a youth by the time I left for Gondor. I doubt he recognized me this time, though; much can change in sixty years, and I never mentioned Thorongil to him since our meeting at Meduseld a short time ago."

"I need not ask why the stealth; Denethor was always suspicious of you, was he not?" Imrahil remembered veiled threats and hints in conversations he had walked into at least once.

Thorongil nodded. "His suspicions were raised within a year of my arrival, and by the time the raid on Umbar occurred, it was clear I would have to either declare myself or leave. Gondor was unready for the war that would have brought, and I had no desire to cause another Kin-strife." His face was lost in far-away memories for a moment, but soon cleared. "Now, the time for secrecy is over. Though I will not enter the city as its king until the Enemy has been cast down, I need not hide behind use-names any longer. My true name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Elendil, and I come from the Rangers of the North."

The words were spoken with such conviction, and the kingly look on Aragorn's face combined with Imrahil's memories of a younger valiant officer swept away any remaining doubts he may have had. This was the true king so long awaited, and his heart swelled with sudden loyalty and devotion. "You have my allegiance," he said quietly.

Aragorn's answering smile was the only response he needed.


End file.
